


Overheard Conversations Between Connor and Hank

by ZonateBiscuit



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Conversations, F/M, Gen, POV Third Person, need to get my brain working again, outside pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-05-19 01:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14863953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZonateBiscuit/pseuds/ZonateBiscuit
Summary: What would conversations and moments be like from another perspective between Connor and Hank?Please feel free to join my new discord for updates on this and other works: https://discord.gg/WwbAp7b





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I may add more. I'm unsure yet, but if I do it'll become a multichapter little thing of broken up 'drabbles'. If anyone wishes to contribute, hit me up, or feel free to do the same idea if you haven't already!

Lonnie sipped her coffee on the way through the door to the residence. Officers milled about discussing the crime scene, and she was about to ask for further details when - 

“For the love of Christ, stop licking the evidence!” 

“Apologies, Lieutenant. It is, however, still the easiest and most real time way of gaining information." 

 

~

 

“ – suggest getting your cholesterol levels checked, Lieutenant. Perhaps even a Liver Panel due to your excessive consumption of alcohol.” 

There was a moment of silence, in which Lonnie realized she’d stopped on her way to the printer in a subconscious effort to not be noticed in case Hank decided to explode in middle of the precinct. 

“Do you intentionally have a ‘prick protocol’ or something? Or are you just naturally clueless? I _like_ food. My health is perfectly _fine._ Now shut your hole and do some work.” 

 

~

 

Lonnie looked up from her desk to see Hank walking by covered in varying colors of paint. Connor followed dutifully behind him.  

“I’m sorry, Hank. I believe I estimated the area of effect correctly, but I failed to predict that you would step the left and not the right.” 

Hank stopped, prompting Connor to abruptly come to a halt lest he collide with his back. The older man turned, frowned, and ground out, “You blaming me on this one?” 

“I – no – I – that’s not what I was inferring at all – ” 

He was interrupted by Hank’s hands, covered in pink paint, cupping either side of his face and patting his cheeks. Connor allowed it to happen, mouth slightly open. Hank shrugged and then said, “Ah, fuck it,” and went in for a full hug, smearing paint all over Connors clean CyberLife uniform. 

Lonnie bit her lip, eyes widening and tongue pressing to the rough of her mouth. 

“This is a form of retaliation?” Connor probed simply, blinking and standing stiffly. 

Hank slapped him on the back heartily. “Fuck yeah, it is.”

 

~

 

The older Detective was panting harshly when they both arrived at the precinct, a perp in tow being led by the elbow by a disgruntled Hank. 

“It was only a suggestion.” 

“For the last time, I’m not doing Pilates with you, Connor.” 

There was a beat. “How about Yoga?” 

 

~

 

“How drunk was he?” Lonnie asked, watching Hank sink his head down onto his forearms at his desk. 

There was a muffled groan, and a muttered, “Stop being so loud,” from the older man. 

Connor blinked and glanced at the clock – Lonnie followed his line of sight to confirm it was, indeed, 3pm and they’d only just arrived into work. 

“It took four cold showers, two cups of black coffee, and a liter of water, before he stopped cursing at me.” 

Lonnie scrunched her nose up. “Damn. What was it this time?” 

Connor shook his head. “Nothing as terrible as you think. He was watching a game and got carried away.” 

Hank mumbled something. 

“What?” Lonnie asked softly. 

He lifted his head with some effort. “I said, I think I donated money to Wikipedia last night, though I’m not sure how.” He squinted, turned pale, and allowed his head to gently fall back onto his arms. 

Connor frowned. “What’s Wikipedia?”

 

~

 

“We’re not getting another Hooker, Connor.” 

“But – ”

“There were too may questions last time. I’m not explaining why I had to hire so many in less than 2 minutes in the middle of a crime scene.” 

 

~

 

“How’s your blood pressure?” 

“Oh, for fuck sake.” 

 

~

 

“I know you dislike the idea of Yoga and Pilates, but since you have Sumo, perhaps you’d like a new hobby? There is a fish species that's very peaceful to keep.” 

Silence. 

“They are called Dwarf Gourami. Very colorful.” 

Silence.

“I think tropical fish would be a nice addition to your home. I can even help you set it up, if you like.” 

“Yeah, ok.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did more, enjoy!

“Why you always doing that? 

“Doing what?” 

“Fixing your tie and checking yourself out in mirrors. Thought Androids didn’t have vanity.” 

“I… don’t. My protocol insists I must always present myself accordingly.”

Hank snorted. “Protocol, huh? Sure. Whatever you say, son.” 

 

~

 

They were on their way to infiltrate a Red Ice supply ring. 

“What’s with the Beanie?” 

“We’re supposed to be undercover.” 

Lonnie kind of liked it the hat.

“It covers my LED,” Connor reasoned. 

Hank blinked at him, gave him a once over, and Lonnie could see the older man’s hesitation. Connor may look human in dark jeans, blue t-shirt, and black jacket with a soft beanie, but his posture was hands-by-his-sides stiff. He was too still for a human. Too watchful. Too… mechanical looking. Coupled with his neutral expression, any human with sense would mark him for an Android straight away. 

Hank sighed. “You gotta relax more.” 

“I am relaxed.” 

Hank shook his head. “Fuck it. Maybe they’ll be too stupid to notice.”

 

~

 

“Lift.” 

Silence. 

“Up. Lift, lift.” 

“Connor pick the kid up before he has an aneurysm.” 

Lonnie leaned around her desk to see a four-year-old boy stretching his arms up to the Android. Hank went back to talking to the mother, but Lonnie could see him flick his gaze back to Connor now and then.

The RK800 looked down at the sandy-haired child for a moment, before bending at the knees, presenting his arms out, and allowing the boy to latch on. Rising, he cradled the boy to one side, allowing little sticky fingers to poke at the shining triangle of his uniform. 

Supporting the small human frame with one arm, Connor looked at Hank. “What do I do with it now?” 

 

~ 

 

“I’ve discovered that I like cats.” 

Silence. 

“They are quite different to dogs. Do you like cats, Lieutenant?” 

Silence. 

“There's a game on tonight. It isn’t the same sport or team from previous conversations we've had, so I'm unsure if I would like it. Would you recommend I watch it?” 

Silence. 

“Sergeant Lester suggested I try listening to rock instead of heavy metal – ” 

“Don’t listen to that asshole, heavy metal is far more fucking superior!"

 

~ 

 

“Your desk receives 38% more natural light than others, so I thought you might benefit from looking after this.” 

“You got me a fuckin’ plant?” 

“It’s an _Opuntia._ ” 

“It’s a _c_ _actus._ ”

“A Prickly Pear cactus to be correct.” 

“Is that supposed to _mean something_?” 

“No. I just thought you’d like a plant to look after.” Connor did a weird thing that Lonnie believed he thought was a reassuring smile, but somehow, his programming couldn’t get it quite right. Then he walked away. 

Hank pursed his lips, frowned, and then glanced at the plant before moving it to a better position in on his desk. "Prickly prick." 

 

~ 

 

Hank leaned back in his chair smugly, hands resting on his stomach, fingers interlinked. He waited. 

Connor blinked, unfazed at the older detective’s attitude. Lonnie could only wheel her chair over to Hanks desk with her coffee to sit and stare as everything unfolded before her. 

Two minutes passed, but Hank was confident. Lonnie could see it in his upturning lips. Connor frowned, probably wondering how the human could be so sure of the outcome. 

Director Fowler appeared, striding purposefully for the Android, and Lonnie could see Connor falter, mouth opening as if to protest. 

“Plastic, you’ve to hand in your report for the Elwin case. Do it now while I have time. Move it.” 

“I – yes, Sir,” he said, defeated. 

“Hah!” cried Hank. “I win.” 

Connor twisted his mouth to one side, and Lonnie’s eyebrows raised. That was the first instantaneous - _normal_ – reaction she’d really seen from him. Interesting. 

“That shouldn’t count,” he intoned simply.  “There was no way of knowing Director Fowler was coming to collect me for – ” He stopped, squinting at Hank. “You orchestrated him to arrive when you made the bet.” 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hank denied, smiling. “But you lost. You couldn’t keep silent for five whole minutes, so you owe me a bottle of Jack tonight.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to write some more I guess? I should be writing other things, but these are nice little things to do. Enjoy! I try and catch mistakes, but I write these late at night usually and post them a few minutes after quick edits since they are little drabble thingies so any mistakes, I do apologise.

“The fuck are you doing?” 

Lonnie paused at Hanks front door, two coffees in hand, and stared at the Android lying on the floor on his back next to the older man’s dog. The St. Bernard was also on his back, legs askew and tongue lolling to one side. At the sound of his master’s voice, the giant fluffy creature wagged his tail, but refused to move in any other way, lazy as he was. 

“I was told that acting like a dog gives you a better understanding of them.” 

Hank blinked. Lonnie opened her mouth, and then closed it again. 

“Where was this?” Hank asked. 

“The precinct. In the break room.” 

“Did Reed tell you this?” 

“How did you know?”

 

~

 

Hank is panting again after the chase. 

“I really think you should consider some form of exer – ” 

“For the love of - stop trying to get me to do yoga!”

 

~

 

“Lieutenant?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I believe I got this file in error.” 

“What?” 

“It’s mislabeled but contains a music file and a message saying ‘LOL’.” 

“What’s the music?” 

“It’s by Rick Astley – ”

Lonnie could still here Hanks laughter when she left for lunch and Connor’s query of, “What is ‘rick-rolled’?”

 

~

 

“You can juggle.” 

“Of course.” 

“Why is that important? The fuck you have a skill like that for? And why save it in your brain?” 

“It was a way to help test my dexterity, much like my use of my coin.” 

“And you just… kept it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“Why not? One never knows when it’s useful.” 

Turns out it helps freak out an unstable human enough for Hank and Lonnie to get the drop on him from behind in the middle of a kitchen restaurant. Juggling knives can do that to a person.

 

~

 

Connor talks. A lot. He doesn’t seem to like silences, or perhaps he just likes to know things. 

Hank tolerates it to a point. Sometimes he responds. Sometimes he tells the ‘Droid to shut his mouth. Other times, he just listens. 

So does Lonnie.

  
~

 

“Perhaps I should drive.” 

“Nope,” Hank protests. 

“It’s been a long night and –” 

“You’re not driving my car.” 

“I’ll drive,” offered Lonnie with a yawn, but she was exhausted as well. It had been a long few days, and an even longer night of paperwork after finishing the Denovo case. “I’ll drop you guys off, collect my car tomorrow.” 

“Fuck no. You’re not driving my car either.” 

Far from offended, Lonnie snorted. “Surprised that thing still runs.” 

“Hey!” 

“I’ll drive,” Connor said firmly, walking to towards Hank, a hand outstretched for the keys. 

“Like hell you will. You drive like an old lady.”

Connor pursed his lips, straightening, and Lonnie huffed. “I drive within the law. That does not make me a geriatric human female. Keys please.” 

Hank drew up short, then burst out laughing. “A – a geriatric – a geriatric human female!”

After a moment, he slapped the keys into the Androids hands and sat in the passenger seat, seemingly willing enough to let him for that alone. Lonnie followed him and climbed in the back at Connor’s insistence over the Lieutenant’s wheezing, claiming he would drop her off at her apartment and return Hanks vehicle after he left him home. 

She was careful not to comment on his driving skills along the way, even if he did drive like an old lady.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, yeah. Have some more. I am ill, I should be more productive but here you go. Enjoy! Any and all mistakes are mine. Not beta'd because I'm a lazy mofo.

“I didn’t know you could do that Lieutenant.” 

Hank rolled by on a skateboard as if he’d been born to it and grabbed hold of the burger Connor had been holding out for him. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, son. What era you think grew up in?” 

“Hey! I said you could borrow it for five minutes old man!” called a kid jogging after him. 

“Ya snooze, ya lose, kiddo! Best 6 bucks I spent today,” he chuckled. 

~

 “Connor, I meant _Sumo_ fetch, not _you_.”

~ 

Lonnie flinched at the distinctive sound of breaking and entering from the area of the Hank’s kitchen; smashed glass crunching underfoot, the heavy _thunk_ of a body landing - rather ungracefully, she thought – on the floor. 

Hand automatically reaching for the nearest available weapon (a chopstick from their takeout), she paused when Hank rested a hand on her arm to still her. They had been chilling on the couch watching a movie to help him on one of his bad days coming up to Cole’s… well, she often called in to spend time with him around this time of year. 

Confused, she frowned when Hank hollered towards the noise. “Thought I gave you a key!” 

“Oh. Right.” 

It was Connor. 

“You owe me a new window.” 

The Android appeared brushing down his uniform and looking uncomfortable. “Of course.” Sumo waddled his way over and greeted his other companion as if the ‘Droid hadn’t just arrived like a shadow in the night only to be embarrassingly caught in the act of vandalism. “When you didn’t arrive for work and did not answer my calls, I…” 

Hank rolled his eyes. “I’m fine you worry wart. Sit down and watch the movie with us.” 

Connors face brightened. Lips curving upwards, he perched himself on an armchair and focused on the screen. 

~ 

Lonnie glanced down at the cart full of crap Hank claimed was food. “You know, I only needed three things, and I’m starting to agree with Connor in some of the things he says about what you consider vital to stay alive.” 

Hank, who was busy grabbing beer in one hand and potato chips with the other from a strategically placed basket that screamed SALE! glared at her. “Don’t start soundin’ like him too. I’ve enough in one Android.” 

Connor pushed the cart along beside her. He wisely said nothing but appeared to inflate a bit at Lonnie’s mimicry. 

She picked up some of the items. “This is pure sugar. Fat. Processed crap. Salt and - do you want to survive past the game? This is a heart attack waiting to happen and this is before you even order the pizza.” 

“Didn’t ask your opinion,” he huffed, moving down another isle where she saw the sign for dips. 

Nope. No way. “Here. Wheel your own cart for a few minutes. We’ll be right back.” Lonnie dumped the shitty food back into the cart, nudged it towards her older friend, and then turned to take hold of Connors hand. They were off to get healthy stuff to cook for the stubborn man. 

Two hours later, Hank was eating potato chips with homemade dip, homemade pizza with salad, and carrot sticks with hummus, all the while chugging it down with his preferred beer. Connor was smiling. 

Lonnie could live with that, she thought, dozing off on the couch. 

~ 

“Connor? Connor what are you doing?” 

“It said it was trapped on a cliff and making distressing noises. I couldn’t just leave it.” 

“It’s not – It’s not really – It’s different from – Fine. The Roomba can stay.” 

~ 

“And just what’s wrong with my clothes?” Hank grumbles. 

“I do not particularly have an issue with them, but Detective Kinsella – ” 

“Lonnie?!” he said incredulously. 

Lonnie nearly spat out her coffee. “Don’t drag me into this.” She shrugged a little. “I just said they were a little… outdated… is all.” 

“Says the walking leather shop.” 

“Oh c’mon,” Lonnie whined. “I don’t wear that much leather, do I?” 

Connor was suddenly helpful. “Technically, without breaking it down into the types of faux leather for each shop and quality per item, I estimate it to be approximately eighty-seven perce – ” 

“Ok! No more talk about style. Fine. I get it.”


End file.
